Not the Hero Type
by Ferdy 63
Summary: What if Merle survived the attack on the Governor? In this AU, he makes it out alive and while on the run meets up with someone from his past who needs his help. I'm a huge WD fan and for some strange reason, a Merle Dixon fan. Hope you enjoy and reviews are greatly appreciated. Rated M to be safe for typical Merle language.
1. Chapter 1

Merle was on the run. He'd just attacked the Governor's men and barely made it out alive. Now, he was on his own in this crazy ass world. He couldn't go back to Woodbury and he couldn't go back to the prison. Yep, as usual, he found himself in quite a pickle. He'd found that the best thing to do in these situations as well as most any other situation was to get high. Since crystal meth was pretty scarce these days, he figured getting drunk would do just fine. Now, all he had to do was find some booze.

He spent the night sleeping in a huge old magnolia tree outside of Dacula, Georgia. It hadn't been half bad as far as sleeping in trees went. Now, he was ready to celebrate his own survival. He knew of a biker bar just a short piece down the road and he was planning on hotfooting there before he drew any attention from the biters. If he was lucky there'd be enough booze and beer to keep him on a little vacation from this rotting world for at least a week.

The bar had been a gas station at one point until the interstate had pulled all the traffic away from the highway where it sat. A couple of dudes had bought the place and built a bar inside out of rough cut 2x4's. Then they'd added an old juke box in the corner and a few plastic folding tables and chairs. Not much to look at but then again you didn't need fancy décor when your goal was to get so wasted you didn't remember where you were.

Merle approached the bar, ironically called The Highway to Hell. The owners surely never figured how close to the truth that name would be one day. A few walkers stumbled around the parking lot but nothing he couldn't handle. He took them out quickly with his machete hand and tried the door. It was locked and all the windows were boarded up from the inside. He wondered if Roscoe had barricaded himself in. He hoped he wasn't going to have to face the walker version of his old friend. That would suck balls.

He crept around to the back entrance which was locked as well but with some careful prying (the knife hand came in handy so often) he managed to get the door open. Once inside, he closed the door and relocked it. It was a little off kilter from the prying but should hold enough to keep the biters out. It was dark inside and smelled about as ripe as a hog pen in the middle of summer. Either someone was hiding here or had been recently.

Merle tried to stay in cover as he moved from the back room into the bar area. He could see the whole floor where the tables and jukebox sat. There was no one, living or dead, in his sight. Just as he stepped up to the bar, he heard the click of a revolver being cocked. "Hold it right there, you bastard," he heard a feminine voice say, "Hands up and no tricks unless you want some extra ventilation."

He raised his hands and smirked, "Well, well, well, sweet Lurleen. How the hell you been, darlin'?" There was no mistaking that voice. He'd known the woman since he was in kindergarten. She'd grown up in the same trailer park where he and Daryl had lived. From the age of 16 to about 28, she was a party girl, into whoever and whatever as long the booze and drugs were plentiful. Then, a few years ago, she'd met Roscoe, one of the bar owners, and he'd been her savior. He helped her sober up and start over. Merle hadn't seen her since.

"Merle Dixon?!" he heard her ask, "What the hell? What the fuck happened to your hand?"

"Long story but the gist is that we parted ways," he told her, smiling as he turned around. "A good ole boy sheriff and his buddies chained me to a roof and left me to die but I survived."

She grabbed Merle and pulled him into a bear hug, "Goddamn, man, it's good to see a friendly face. Hell, it's good to see a face that's alive."

Merle hugged her briefly. He didn't care much for such intimate contact unless he was planning on bumping uglies with a woman. "Good to see you, too. Roscoe?"

Lurleen looked away and he could see she was fighting back tears, "No, he's gone. Two months ago. Right after we boarded this place up and well, I've been here ever since."

"Shit, Roscoe's gone? He was a tough bastard. Didn't figure they'd get him," Merle said as he sadly shook his head.

Lurleen just looked down at the floor as he spoke. He could tell she was crying.

"Well, I came here looking for a drink. Got any fire water for an old friend?" he asked.

She looked back up at him with a bit of a smirk, "Sorry, pal. You came to the wrong bar. We poured all that shit out when we were boarding this place up. Roscoe said I didn't need nothin' else to deal with on top of the biters. Said it would make it easier on us both to just get rid of it. I'll tell you I've thanked him every day since because if he hadn't done that, I woulda drank myself to death a while back. It took all I had just to keep from going bat shit crazy since Roscoe's gone."

"The hell you say! Man, I can't believe my luck. Got stuck in a prison with no crystal meth and now a bar with no booze. This apocalypse sucks," Merle told her.

"A prison?" she asked. "That where you been, Merle?"

"No, it ain't like that. My brother, Daryl, and some other folks are livin' in the prison. Cleaned out all the biters and set up housekeepin' inside it. They got a doc although I think he's really a vet and a do gooder ex-Sheriff along with a few other folks. They made it safe. It works pretty good to keep the bad ones out but I never could stand being cooped up like that," he admitted.

"You should try being stuck in here for a couple of months. Prison sounds like a vacation," Lurleen told him. "I've barely stuck my head out except to get water and empty the latrine bucket."

Merle felt bad about what this woman had been through. She'd had a hard life before all the walker shit went down. Hell, hadn't they all? The trailer park they'd all grown up in was not a place that produced happy childhoods. Roscoe had been a bear of a man, about 15 years older than Lurleen, but he'd pulled the girl out of a death spiral and shown her that she was worth something. He'd loved the woman despite her past. Now, she looked as lost as the little girl who'd hidden under the trailer to get away from her mama's drunk boyfriend.

"You holdin' up okay, girl?" he asked. "You're lookin'a little shaky."

"I was hangin' on. It's tough, tougher than anything else ever has been, being without Roscoe. The fact that I'm glad to see your ugly mug should tell you I'm gettin' a little buggy though," she teased.

"Come on, let's cop a squat and we can swap war stories," Merle suggested.

Lurleen stepped back and was noticeably limping as she moved toward a chair in the corner. "You ain't bit, are you?" Merle asked before getting any closer.

"No, I'm not bit! I cut myself on a nail sticking out from one of the boards. I didn't think it was bad but it looks like it's gettin' infected. I just haven't had a chance to get out of here and get any medical supplies to treat it," she told him.

"Let me have a look at it," he told her as they sat down.

She reached down and pulled up her pants leg to the knee revealing a long deep cut on her calf. The skin was red and puffy around the cut with dark streaks extending down the calf. "Damn, that looks nasty," he told her.

"Yeah, hurts like a son of a bitch," she said, wincing as she lowered her pants leg.

Merle knew that this wasn't something they could ignore. Lurleen needed a doctor. The old guy at the prison was the closest thing to a doctor that he knew of outside of Woodbury. "Look, there's not very many of those things out there right now. We could make it back over to the interstate and then cut through Newnan. If we get lucky, we could make the prison in about a day or so. They got a man who can treat that. What do you think? I could take you far enough for you to make it there. I ain't goin' back but you need some help."

"I think I'd do just about anything to get out of this tomb. I'm game if you are. Don't think I can do much runnin' though," she told him gratefully.

"I'll check outside. Make sure we got a clear path. You pack up a few supplies and I'll come back and get you," he told her.

Merle quickly slipped back out the rear door. There were two walkers in the parking lot and he took them down quickly. He could see a few more in the distance but he planned on taking Lurleen in the other direction. He figured things were about as safe as they were gonna get. He went back to the door and opened it to find the woman standing just inside. "Come on, we got a clear shot right now," he said.

Once Lurleen stepped out into the light, he could tell that she was really sick. She was pale with dark circles under her eyes and her skin had a damp sheen as if she were running a fever. She wouldn't have lasted much longer in that bar alone. Maybe old Roscoe had sent him in this direction to take care of her. It was the kind of thing he would have done if he were still around.

As they walked, Lurleen asked him about what had happened. He told her about meeting the group at the quarry and then being handcuffed on the roof. "Don't tell me," she said, "you were spun when all this happened, weren't you? You always turn into a shithead when you're doing meth."

Merle just laughed, "Darlin' you always could read me just right."

"Well, it ain't like trying to read War and Peace, Merle. You're not exactly a deep subject. If you're high, you're either being a dick or you're passed out," she told him.

"Oh, and while we're at it why don't we go over a list of your sterling personality traits, Miss Congeniality," Merle laughed. "Last time I checked, you hadn't won any popularity contests."

"No, you're right. I guess we're both assholes," she agreed. "So who cut off your hand? Was it that sheriff guy? "

"Hah, Officer Friendly? Nah he just left me up there. Him and all his little buddies, they just left me cuffed to that pipe on that roof. It wasn't long before the walkers were scratching and pushing on that door trying to get to me. I begged God, the devil, Buddha and Allah to help me but in the end, old Merle had to save himself just like always," he confessed.

"You cut your own hand off?" She asked in astonishment.

"Yep, took a hacksaw and zippity doo dah, left it laying up there in the sun while I made a hasty retreat down another stairwell. It wasn't a pretty sight, let me tell ya. I holed up in an apartment and went through my entire stash of crystal in a few days. Probably woulda died if I hadn't a been found by the Governor. I thought he was a real savior then. Course I was pretty much out of my mind from the pain and infection."

"And the drugs, don't forget the drugs," Lurleen reminded him.

"Yeah, the drugs. I wish I could forget 'em. I ain't had no crystal for close to a year now. The Governor cleaned me up, got me healthy. Then he fucked with my head worse than the drugs had done. I been wanting a hit for months but there's none to be found," Merle explained.

"Getting strung out is a dangerous thing these days, Merle. You don't need crystal messing with your mind when you've got these undead freaks ready to take a chunk out of you. Course you never were the cautious type were you?" she said.

"No, I guess not and I don't need no more lectures. I got enough of those from the goody two shoes group back at the prison. I don't need nobody trying to fix me. I'm doing alright, stayin' alive. If I want to take a couple of days off, what the hell's wrong with that?" Merle asked her.

"I ain't tryin' to fix you Merle, just tellin' you the truth. You know I nearly killed myself with booze and whatever drugs I could get my hands on. I'm just sayin' that the world is a much more dangerous place than it used to be. If you're gonna use, you're takin' a bigger risk than just overdosing. I know you ain't stupid Merle, no matter how much you act that way sometimes. Just be careful whatever you do. The world is running short of good men. We don't need to lose another one," she told him.

"Good men, hah! I know you ain't talkin' bout me, woman!" Merle whooped. "That's a good one!"

Lurleen smiled at his outburst. "No, course not," she sarcastically replied, " You Dixons have always been sorry asses even when you were saving my life. "

They walked on for several hours, occasionally encountering one or two walkers which they were able to pass without getting noticed. Merle could tell that Lurleen was having a tough time keeping up. Her leg must have been hurting pretty bad but she hadn't complained once. That was one of the things they had in common due to their raising or lack thereof. You learned that whining and complaining were useless and more often than not earned you a beating rather than sympathy. She was getting slower, though, and the limp was worse. He figured they better take a break soon.

They kept moving until late afternoon when they ran across a house that had a storm cellar. Merle got Lurleen inside and barricaded the door. She was in bad shape. He could feel the heat from her fever as he helped her inside. She was burning up. He lifted her pants leg and saw that the infection was spreading quickly, probably due to in part to all the walking they'd done that day.

"Don't you give up on me, girl," Merle told her.

Lurleen was so tired she could barely reply, "Sorry to wuss out on you, Merle, but it hurts so damn bad. I just gotta rest for a while."

"I'm gonna look around upstairs, see if I can find some aspirin or anything, okay? I'll be back," he promised her as she began to doze.

He eased up the stairs and opened the door into the kitchen. There were no walkers in sight but he could smell them. He walked quietly through to the den where he found two dried out husks that came snapping at him. He quickly put them down and began searching through the cabinets and drawers for medical supplies.

One of the cabinets in the kitchen had a half bottle of rubbing alcohol and some gauze. He could at least clean the wound a little. A search of the bathroom medicine cabinet turned up a bottle of ibuprofen that was nearly full. There was even a can of beans and a couple of tea bags left in one cabinet in the kitchen. He felt like he'd hit the jackpot.

He went back down into the cellar and found Lurleen still sleeping. He hated to wake her but she needed to get a few of the ibuprofen down and he needed to clean that leg. He shook her shoulder gently. "Hey, sweet Lurleen, wakey wakey."

"No, Roscoe, I just want to sleep. Leave me alone," she told him.

Merle could tell her fever was high but he hoped she wasn't hallucinating. "Hey, it's not Roscoe. It's Merle. Come on, get up. You got to take these pills and I gotta tend that leg. Come on now."

She finally opened her eyes and propped herself up enough to swallow some ibuprofen with a sip of water. Merle propped her leg on an overturned trash can and poured some of the alcohol directly on the wound. Lurleen sucked her breath in through clenched teeth, "Shit, shit, shit, that stings!"

Merle chuckled, "Aw, quit bein' such a pussy. I cut my own hand off and didn't go on as much as you're doin'." He took a square of gauze and began to wipe the cut, cleaning away the dirt and dried blood. The skin felt hard and hot to his touch. That combined with the red streaks running down her leg left little doubt in his mind that the infection was getting into her blood stream. If he didn't get her some help soon, she could lose her leg or worse.

"Hey, I think I'm gonna go out at first light and find us a ride," he told her as he wrapped clean gauze around her wound, "I'm getting' tired of walking. We could make the prison faster."

"Sounds like a plan," she told him as she settled exhausted back against the wall. "Where you plannin' on getting this ride? Back before Roscoe died, we did some scavenging for supplies and gas. We didn't find a vehicle in a 20 mile radius that would run. They're were all either stripped for parts or out of gas."

"I'll find somethin'. You know old Merle always has been a resourceful guy," he said.

She smiled, "Yeah, I know. Remember that dirt bike you built out of pieces from a dozen different bikes? God, that was one ugly machine but we had some fun riding that thing, didn't we?"

Merle grinned too, "Yeah, you and Daryl were barely big enough to drive it but we wore a track through those woods riding that thing. Huh, I'd forgotten about that."

"I didn't. You and Daryl were the only friends I had. When I was out with the two of you, I was safe, away from that sick bastard that lived with my Mom. You guys, especially you Merle, were kind of my knights in shining armor that summer. You hid me and fed me. I don't know what I would've done if you weren't around. Kind of like now, I guess."

"Oh, hell, girl, don't go getting' all sentimental on me. I ain't never been no kind of knight. We was all just tryin' to survive in them days. Me and Daryl hid out with you tryin' to stay out of our old man's way just like you were trying to stay out of Neal's way. We didn't do nothin' special," Merle said as he looked down at the dirt floor under them, "I wish I coulda killed the son of a bitch, both him and my Daddy. They deserved it."

Lurleen put a hand on his arm, "Merle, we were kids. It wasn't your job to protect us. You did what you could, more than a lot of kids your age would have done. I put all that stuff behind me a while ago at the same time I gave up the booze and the drugs. You can't carry that kind of weight around all your life. It's too heavy. It'll wear you down slowly until it kills you. "

"I just left, though. I left Daryl behind to face that bastard alone. I've seen the scars on his back. I know what he went through. I can't even imagine what you must have survived…" Merle admitted through a clenched jaw. He never talked about this stuff with anybody but Lurleen had been there. She knew.

"Merle you did what you had to do. You needed to survive and you did. So did I and so did Daryl. We all did what we had to do to make it through some fucked up childhoods. We got tough. Maybe that's why we're still here now. All this zombie apocalypse shit ain't so bad after the kind of life we had as kids. You were good to me then and here you are doing the same thing again. That makes you a hero in my book." she told him.

Merle looked away from her, feeling ashamed and angry at himself for feeling it, "You need to just shut up, Lurleen. That ain't me, never has been. My baby brother, he'd probably qualify, but I'm the bad guy, the black sheep. There's too much…too much that I've done and seen. Nobody like me should be called a hero."

Lurleen was getting sleepy again. She laid back down on the dirty floor using her backpack as a pillow. "Merle, you gotta stop looking back. None of that matters, especially not now. What you do today and tomorrow and the next day is what decides the kind of man you are. Right now, you're a man that's helping me, probably saving my life. I'd say that makes you a good man."

Merle sat up the rest of the night while she slept. The medicine helped cool her fever. He thought about what she'd said and he remembered what Carol had told him back at the prison. Maybe he was a late bloomer. He knew he'd never be a leader like Rick. Hell, he wasn't sure he even wanted that kind of responsibility, but maybe he could do some good. Make up for some of the really bad shit he'd been involved in with the governor .

Right now he knew that he wanted to help Lurleen. He wanted her to make it. She deserved to have as decent a life as possible after what she'd been through. He'd always liked her. They'd even hooked up a time or two back in their wild days. That was when he'd started calling her Sweet Lurleen. Back then, she had been desperate for attention, for affection and for escape. Roscoe had pulled her out of that darkness and shown her that she was worth loving. She was a different woman now but that lost little girl was still there behind her eyes. Some things could never be put away and left behind. He knew that firsthand.

Early the next morning, just as the sun was peeking over the horizon, he woke Lurleen up and gave her a few more ibuprofen. He promised her he'd be back soon and slipped out of the cellar into the already muggy morning air. He had to find a car or a truck, something that he could use to get her to the prison so Hershel could treat that cut. There were still walkers stumbling around the house but he took out a couple and quickly got past the others.

He'd checked his map and he knew he wasn't far from a tiny town. There was a possibility that he might find a garage or gas station where there might be a vehicle. He moved along the road as fast as he dared, always keeping his eyes open for any threats in the distance. The living could be worse to deal with than the dead. He hoped he wouldn't have to face off with either but if it came down to it, he preferred the previously deceased.

The little town was a few miles down the road. It was really more of a crossroads than a town. There was a small Quik Stop market with a few gas pumps out front, a Baptist church with a sign announcing an upcoming revival and a cinderblock building with a handwritten sign over the door reading Ed's Tire and Auto. Merle took a quick look in the window. Ed, or a fellow mechanic, was still inside sitting in a metal folding chair with a shotgun resting underneath his chin. The top of his skull and most of his brain decorated the wall behind him. The good news was that an older model Ford pickup was sitting inside the repair bay. He was willing to bet it was the dead man's truck and he prayed it was still in working order.

Merle tried the door but it was locked. He had no choice but to break out a window, and the sound of breaking glass was sure to attract any walkers in the area. He'd have to make it fast. Once inside, if that truck wouldn't start, he might be up the creek. It was a chance he had to take at this point, like it or not.

His knife hand made quick work of the window but even as he climbed inside the building he could hear the groaning of nearby walkers who had been alerted to his presence. The truck was covered in dust but otherwise looked fine. The tires were good and the gas gauge showed half full, but he couldn't find the keys. He checked the visor, under the floor mat and the glove compartment. He didn't see any keys lying around in the shop so the only other option was that they might be in the pocket of the guy in the chair.

The fellow had been dead a while so he was more dried up than rotting. Merle made a quick search of his pockets and found a key ring in the left front. There was a Ford key on the ring. He jumped into the truck and tried starting the engine. Walkers had already made it to the broken window. There were at least six. They'd claw their way inside soon so he didn't have much time.

The truck had been sitting for a long time. The battery might be dead. It sputtered once or twice on the first try but didn't catch. He cursed under his breath and tried again while pumping the gas. It turned over for a second or two before dying. Now, one of the creatures had gotten inside, falling head first through the window. It was still trying to get up when he finally heard the engine roar into life. He pumped the gas once, twice, revving the engine.

The garage door was still down. With no power, he couldn't open it without getting out of the truck. The walkers were building up at the window and now two were inside. One had his face smashed against the truck's driver side window. He had to try and punch through the door with the truck. There was no other way. The door didn't look too sturdy so he figured he'd have a good chance.

He eased the truck forward until the front bumper rested against the metal door and he pushed the accelerator. The back tires spun but the door started to bend outward. This could work. There were at least six walkers inside now, all clawing at the truck, trying to get to him. He continued pushing the accelerator and watched as the door bent around the truck's front bumper until he could see daylight through the holes on each side.

He put the truck in reverse and backed up as much as possible. Then he slammed it into gear and stomped the accelerator. The back wheels spun but he got just enough momentum to knock the garage door off its track and he was suddenly free of the garage. The broken door fell off to the side as he kept moving. He still had a few hangers on as he hit the road but as his speed increased, they dropped to the pavement. Within a few minutes, he made it back to the house where Lurleen was waiting. With any luck, they'd make the prison in an hour or two. She was going to make it.

He parked the truck as close to the cellar door as possible and ran down the steps to where he'd left Lurleen. He thought she was sleeping but when he called out for her to get up, she didn't respond. He reached down and felt her face. It was burning up. She was still breathing but he couldn't get her to wake up. He jerked the knife prosthesis off his arm and threw it into her backpack. With the pack slung over his shoulder, he picked her up as gently as he could. It was a lot harder hanging onto her without two hands but he had to make it. He stopped twice going up the stairs to keep her from slipping but finally he made it to the truck.

The noise from the old vehicle pulling up to the house had drawn some attention and the walkers were making their way towards it. He laid Lurleen on the hood, got the door open and put her inside, then ran around to the driver's side and got himself locked in. The engine was still running. He hadn't dared turn it off. They quickly left the house and walkers behind and he headed down the road hoping he wouldn't hit any roadblocks before he got to the prison.

Lurleen lay slumped against him as he drove. Her skin was so hot. He didn't have any water to pour over her so he cracked his window a bit to let some air in, hoping to cool her down. The breeze might not have been exactly cool but at least the air was moving. Lurleen stirred just a bit, "Merle, we have to hide. He's coming Merle. We have to hide. Please don't let him find me."

"Don't worry, baby girl, I ain't gonna let nobody hurt you again. You just rest now darlin'. Merle's got you. Just rest," he told her, wrapping his arm around her. She was soon back asleep or unconscious. He wasn't sure which it was. As long as she kept breathing, he was going to save her. He had to.


	2. Part 2

They pulled into the drive leading to the prison about two hours later. There were walkers in the road and around the fence. He pulled within about ten feet of the first gate and honked the horn. He could see someone in the tower, probably Rick, and a rifle was pointed right at his head. He rolled the window all the way down and stuck his arms and head out, "It's me. It's Merle. Don't shoot. I need some help, got a sick woman here. Please just open the gate."

The walkers were getting too close. He couldn't leave the window down. The man in the tower had lowered the gun. He wasn't sure what was happening but he could see movement in the courtyard. Then he saw Daryl walking down the road toward the gates. His baby brother would help him. He had no doubts.

The young boy, Rick's son, opened the interior gate and Daryl walked to the outer gate. His brother looked angry and confused but he wasted no time in getting the gate open so he could drive inside. By this time, the boy had closed the inner gate leaving him trapped in between the two fences. Daryl walked up to the truck and Merle opened the door.

"What the hell you doin' man? We thought you lit out after you let Michonne go," Daryl asked.

"I, yeah I did, but I ran into an old friend and she needs some help. She's got a bad infected leg from a cut. I thought maybe Hershel could help her. She's real sick Daryl," he pleaded.

His brother looked into the truck, "Is that Lurleen Jenkins?"

"Yep.I found her hiding out at Roscoe's bar. Roscoe didn't make it. Look, I been trying to get her here for two days. Will you just let us in already?" he asked.

"Okay, yeah. Carl open it up," Daryl yelled. Merle could see Rick and some of the others standing on the other side of the gate. No one looked pleased to see him back. He'd never intended to be seen by them again but he had to get help for Lurleen.

Once they were inside the fence, Carol, Maggie and Glen carried Lurleen inside the cell block with Hershel following. He started after them but Rick stopped him.

"Hold it, Merle. We got to get a few things straight first. What happened before you took off? Michonne said you were taking her to the Governor but you let her go and told her you had something you had to do. We found the bodies at the silos and the herd of walkers. How did that happen? " Rick asked. Michonne stood right behind him and Daryl stood off to one side.

"I…look I ain't got time to play twenty questions right now. I want to make sure Lurleen's alright. If you folks want me gone after that, fine," he told them as he started walking into the cell block.

Hershel was standing over Lurleen who was laid out on a cot. "We're going to have to drain that wound. Carol, get me a scalpel and Maggie get some penicillin. We'll give her an injection of antibiotic and some pain medication. That should keep her calm while we lance the leg."

Beth was bathing Lurleen's face with a cool cloth while everyone worked around her. Her eyes fluttered open and she was startled at all the people around her, "What's happening? Where am I?" she yelled.

Merle quickly stepped up, "It's okay. It's okay. These are the folks I told you about, the ones that Daryl's with. They know how to help you. Just relax. I'll stay with you. You're gonna be okay."

"Just don't leave, Merle," she pleaded with a look of panic.

"I ain't going nowhere," he promised taking hold of her hand just before Hershel injected her with a small dose of morphine which eased her into a peaceful sleep.

"You're going to have to leave us now, Merle," Hershel told him.

"Didn't you hear what I just told her old man? I ain't leaving her," Merle declared.

"Well then step back at least. We've gotta get some of this infection drained or she's going to lose her leg," Hershel stated.

Merle moved back but didn't leave. Daryl walked over to stand beside him. "What's got into you, man?" he asked. "I ain't never seen you actin' like this before. You alright?"

"Yeah, I made a promise to her. That's all. Gotta keep my word," Merle told him.

They stood and watched as Hershel made a small incision and the bloody pus drained from Lurleen's leg. He applied a compress with some type of herbal concoction on it that he said would help draw more of the infection. They'd also be giving her IV fluids and antibiotics for a few days. Hershel said he thought they'd gotten to her in time to save the leg but he didn't make any promises.

Merle sat near the cot the rest of the day and into the night. Rick, Daryl, Carol, Hershel and the others came and went. Sometimes they asked him questions which he would mostly ignore. Daryl brought him a bottle of water and a bowl of some kind of stew. He ate it without tasting much. He just wanted her to wake up. If she'd just wake up everything would be okay. He could leave again knowing she was safe. They didn't want him here. He didn't need the hassle.

Sometime late in the night, Merle woke up to Lurleen's voice, "Hey, cowboy," she croaked, "buy a girl a drink?" Merle poured some water into a glass and held it to her lips. She drank a few sips and then laid her head back against the pillow.

"So, how you feelin' sweetheart?" he asked. "You scared the shit outta me, I gotta say."

"I'm better. Still not back in fightin' shape but my leg feels better and I'm pretty sure the fever's gone," she told him.

Merle reached over and touched her forehead. It was cool. He pushed her hair back off her forehead and kept his hand there for a moment. "These folks, they'll take good care of you Lurleen. They're good people. You know Daryl. He's here. I'm probably gonna head back out in the mornin'. You know me, can't ever stay in one place for long."

"Merle, don't run this time," she said reaching to touch his arm, "Don't leave. Remember what I told you. The past doesn't have to be who you are. Stay here, start over. I'll help you just like you've helped me. You know Daryl will help you, too. Stay."

"Lurleen, you don't understand. These people…I've done things, hurt some of them. I don't know if that's something that they'll forgive. I don't know if they'll want me to stay and I ain't begging nobody," he told her.

Lurleen was getting drowsy again from the effects of the morphine. "You're not a bad man, Merle. There's good in you. You just got to stop tryin' so hard to hide it. Tell them you want to stay. Stop living in the past," she whispered as she closed her eyes again and drifted off.

Merle stood up and paced back and forth for a bit. Part of him wanted to listen to her, to stay here and try to make a life with these people. Another part of him was saying fuck this, you don't need anyone. He needed a drink or a hit, something, to make all the noises in his head stop. It would be easy to just walk away if he could do that.

As he walked toward the cell block door, Carol stepped out of the shadows. She'd been standing there all along. "What the hell you doin' creepin' around in the dark?" he asked angrily.

She walked closer to him, "One time about a year ago, I told your brother almost exactly the same thing that Lurleen just told you. He listened. He stayed. You see how much he's changed, Merle. You can do that, too. You could be such a help to us if you wanted to. We need men with strength and honor."

Merle stared at her for a moment before asking, "Why you tryin' to help me? Weren't you the one who told me you'd cut my throat once before?"

"That was only if you messed with Daryl. We all know what you did, Merle. We know you led the walkers to the silos and took out some of the Governor's men. You helped us. Glen and Maggie can forgive you. It won't be overnight but they'll come around. Talk to Rick tomorrow. Ask him if you can stay. Us late bloomers need to stick together," Carol told him with a smile as she walked back to her cell.

Merle walked outside and took a deep breath of the fresh air. He had carried his own war around inside his head for as long as he could remember. The two opposing forces constantly battled for control. One side was his father's voice telling him he was no good, never would be. The other side was quieter, gentler. He wasn't sure where it came from but sometimes it overpowered the voice of his old man and tonight was one of those times. Maybe Carol and Lurleen were right. Maybe he could stay. He wasn't gonna beg Officer Friendly for anything though.

He found a quiet spot and stretched out where he could see the stars. After two days and nights of being awake and on guard, he could finally rest and within a few minutes he was snoring. He slept for a few hours before he woke up to someone kicking his boot. "Merle, wake up, breakfast," was all he heard. He opened his eyes to see Rick's boy walking away from him. He stood up and stretched. His stomach was already rumbling at the mention of food. He realized he hadn't really eaten anything in a few days either.

Merle walked around the edge of the prison and drained the lizard. Then he walked into the cell block. Lurleen was sitting up on the cot eating a bowl of what looked like oatmeal. The rest of the group was gathered around a table and Carol was spooning up bowls of the steaming oatmeal studded with raisins. Officer Friendly was holding his baby girl. The whole room got quiet as he walked over and sat down.

Carol handed him a bowl. "Mornin', Merle," she said.

"Mornin'" he responded before digging into his breakfast.

Glen quickly finished his food and stood up. "Got guard duty," he told the group as he quickly left the table slinging a rifle over his shoulder. He didn't even look in Merle's direction as he walked by. Well, he couldn't really blame the guy. He had almost killed him back in Woodbury. That was going to be a big obstacle if he actually planned on staying.

After he finished breakfast, he walked over and sat next to Lurleen's cot. "How's it hangin' this morning Sweet Lurleen?" he asked her.

She grinned back at him, "I think I'm gonna live, Dixon, thanks to you. Have you decided what you're gonna do? Are you leaving?"

Merle looked down shaking his head, "I don't know. I truly don't know. I got some thinkin' to do."

Lurleen motioned toward Daryl, "Maybe you could talk to your brother. He might be able to help you decide"

"I ain't never needed Daryl's advice before and I ain't askin' now. I can make up my own mind," he snapped back at her.

"And is that Merle talkin' now or is that your Pop? Daryl's made a pretty good life here and these are good folks. Maybe he's learned a few things over the last year, things that you're still fightin' against," she said.

"Yeah, well, whatever. I'm goin' for a walk. I'll check in on you later," he told her.

"You just better not leave without tellin' me, Dixon, or I swear to God I'll hunt you down and make you regret it," she said.

Merle walked past several of the prison group on his way out the door. Daryl followed him. The two men walked down toward the first gate. He could smell the walkers from here. It was something he never got used to. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a crumpled half empty pack of smokes that he'd been carefully rationing over the last week. He took one cigarette and passed one to Daryl and then pulled out his prized ZZ Top lighter and lit both of them.

"So, you gonna tell me what's goin' on Merle?" Daryl asked. "I figured you was gone for good. Couldn't believe what you done with those walkers, luring 'em to the silo like that. You've done a lot of shit over the years but that's one I never figured on."

"Why's that?" Merle asked. "You don't think I got the balls to take on the Governor?"

"Nah, man, it ain't that. It's just..well, you seemed so set on leavin'. And, after everything that happened, I just…I don't ever remember you doin' nothin' like that before. It surprised me and everybody else. Not that you ever were exactly predictable but, look what I'm tryin' to say is thanks and I'm hopin' that you're plannin' on stayin' around this time," Daryl told him.

Merle got quiet, staring off into the distance. Damn his baby brother for being such a pussy. He didn't need this shit. "I owed the Governor. That was only partial payment for all the shit he put me through. If it helped y'all out in the process, so be it, but it wasn't like I was doing you any favors. I wanted to take that sumbitch out and I nearly did," he tried to explain. "As for stayin', I ain't sure what I'm doin' yet. Probly stay till Lurleen gets better anyway. "

"Well, I hope you'll stay. I told you I wanted my brother back and I still do. We need to stick together just like we always have but we can't make it by ourselves, not anymore. This group needs strong men. You know the Governor ain't done with us. He's just regroupin'. If you want another shot at him, this'll be your chance," Daryl told him.

Merle liked that idea. He could stay and say it was because he wanted another crack at killing the one eyed bastard from Woodbury. "What about that little Chinaman?" he asked his brother.

"Glen? I told you he's Korean," Daryl corrected him.

"I don't give a rat's ass if he's descended straight from Ho Chi Minh. What I want to know is if he's gonna start anything if I decide to stay? I don't want to have to kill him but I'm not taking no shit from him neither," Merle promised.

"Glen's mad and he's got a right to be, bro," Daryl explained. "He'll get over it but it would go a long way if you could just say you're sorry or somethin' man. "

"Yeah well people in hell want slurpees, baby brother," Merle scoffed. "Don't mean the devil's takin' orders, now does it?"

Daryl just looked at him and shook his head. "I thought maybe things had changed but that ain't happenin' is it? Whatever you decide, it's good to see you again Merle. I hope you can stay. " Then Daryl walked off leaving Merle alone with his thoughts.

Merle had watched the people at the prison since he brought Lurleen in. They were treating him differently than they had before. They weren't all looking at him like some poisonous snake that had been dropped into their midst. Then again, they hadn't exactly welcomed him with open arms. They were sizing him up, couldn't quite figure him out since he'd led the zombie herd to kill the Governor's men. He had a shot here, a chance to become a part of this community. A part of him wanted it but that little voice in his head kept telling him it was better to run. He'd tried fitting in with a group before, at Woodbury, and look where that had landed him. He knew these people were different. Rick was nothing like the Governor. It was still going to be hard to bite his tongue and march to Rick's tune if he stayed. "What to do? Oh, what to do?" he muttered to himself as he walked the fence perimeter.


	3. Chapter 3

After a short patrol along the fence, Merle walked back to the courtyard in front of the prison and opened the hood on the truck he'd driven in. The thing had gotten them where they needed to go but it had been far from a smooth ride. He figured he could tweak the engine a little and get it purring in case he decided to leave. By midday, he was covered in grease and had car parts laid out on a piece of cardboard on the ground. Whenever he had thinking to do, he always did it better when he was elbows deep in an engine of some kind.

While he worked, his mind wandered through everything that had happened to him since the world ended. All things considered, he'd done alright. Sure, he'd lost his hand and that had been a shitty experience but seeing how much other people had lost made it seem almost inconsequential. Carol had lost her little girl. Lurleen had lost Roscoe. Officer Friendly had lost his wife. Merle still had the only family he cared anything about and that was Daryl. Some of these people had lived out on the road alone for months, half starving. He'd lived the majority of the year in Woodbury where food and shelter were plentiful and there were no walkers that chased you. All in all, he supposed he'd been lucky.

At noon, Carol brought out a plate of food and a glass of water. She stopped for a moment to chat while he ate.

"So, have you decided what you're gonna do?" she asked.

"I'm thinking on stayin' here," he admitted. "I just don't know if everybody else around here is gonna be cool with that, ya know, and I sure as hell ain't beggin' none of y'all for a second chance like some whipped dog."

"Merle, do you ever get tired of getting in your own way?" Carol asked.

"What you talkin' about, Mousey?" he snapped.

"You always think you know what everybody else is thinking. It might surprise you to know that a lot of us respect what you did against the governor and how you saved Lurleen. It shows you've got a good heart. You've done bad things, Merle and that's an irrefutable fact. Since the world ended we've all had to do some bad things, but you could make up for what you've done if you want to. I'm not saying everyone in this prison is going to be your best friend overnight. In fact, I'm sure some of them will probably keep a wary eye on you for as long as you're around. The truth is that we need strong men who know how to defend this prison and you could do that," Carol told him.

"Yeah, yeah. I already got the speech from Daryl. 'All you gotta do is apologize'," Merle mimicked.

"Are you a big enough man to do that, Merle? Cause it's gonna take some balls. You sure you got it in you?" Carol asked over her shoulder as she got up and headed back into the prison.

What the fuck? Had she just said he didn't have the balls? Damn that little woman was full of surprises.

Merle looked around for Daryl. He found his brother up in the guard tower. "Hey, baby bro, I been thinking on what you said earlier, about stayin' around here for a while. Let's say I do. What do you think our old buddy Rick would have to say about it?"

Daryl rocked his bow back over his right shoulder and scratched his chin, "Rick appreciates what you done to help us out with the governor. He ain't totally sold on you as a neighbor, though. I think he'll probly say keep your nose clean, make yourself useful and you can stay. But he may talk to Glenn. Him and Glenn are close. If Glenn says he can't stand havin' you here, it may go against you."

"So, here we are again. I got to make it alright with Glenn. That's what you're sayin', ain't it?" Merle asked mockingly.

"You fucked him up pretty bad, bro. Threw a walker at him from what I hear, put his woman in danger. You think he's just gon forget all that? He ain't stupid, Merle, and he ain't no coward. He's smart and quick and a tough little bastard. He's saved all our asses more than once. You owe him, bro. That's all I'm gonna say," Daryl told his brother.

"Okay, okay. I know. I'll ….. try to talk to him," Merle admitted grudgingly.

"That'd be good, brother," Daryl told him, "that'd be real good."

Merle walked back down the steps to the tower. He didn't like this, not one little bit. Carol had said it took balls and it sure as hell felt like it. He'd rather fight the whole damned field of walkers than talk to that little Chinaman but it was the price to stay here with his brother and Lurleen. He took a deep breath and squared his shoulders before walking around the side of the prison to where Glen was working on reinforcing the fence.

He walked over near the fence where Glen stood and waited for the man to acknowledge his presence. After a few minutes, he realized that he was being ignored. He cleared his throat loudly, "Hey, uh, Glen, you think you could hold up a minute there so we could have a talk?" he asked.

Glen looked up briefly but went right back to work, "I got nothing to talk to you about, Merle."

"Hey man, look here, I know you got your pride hurt by what went down in Woodbury. I'm hopin' we can bury the hatchet here. Make a fresh start. What do ya say?" Merle asked.

"Are you kidding?" Glen asked, incredulous. "I got my pride hurt?! Is that what you think this is? No, man! What happened was you tried to kill me. You left my girlfriend with that psycho and he hurt her. If Rick and Daryl hadn't come looking for us, we'd both be dead . THAT'S what I'm pissed about, okay? I know you wanna play the big man now, make everybody think you've changed and you want to help us out. That's great. That's fine. But don't ever think that I forgot who you really are, Merle Dixon. You wanna bury the hatchet? Let's see if you can guess where I'd like to bury it?" Glenn asked, his eyes locked onto Merle's as he spoke.

Merle gritted his teeth to keep from yelling something back into the other man's face. He wasn't used to having little shits like this Glenn stand up to him. "Alright. You're right. I was doin' what the governor wanted back then. Didn't ask no questions. I know that ain't no excuse. The governor saved my life after I'd just cut off my own hand to get off that roof in Atlanta. I felt like I owed him and I for damn sure felt like I owed every one of you in Officer Friendly's little group some payback for leaving me there in the first place. The governor fooled a lot of people, made us believe he was trying to protect us. I didn't see his true colors until he threw me and Daryl in the ring together. Look, man, life ain't exactly been all rosey colored for me even before all this walking dead shit went down. I did some bad stuff, took out my anger on anybody who happened to cross my path. I'd like to try and make it right if you'll give me a chance."

Glenn looked warily at the man. He didn't say anything for a while. Merle had shrugged his shoulders and turned to leave before Glen spoke, "I won't try to stop you from staying here. We need all the help we can get when the governor comes back, but I'll be watching every move you make and if you try and fuck with anybody in this group, including Daryl, I'll kill you, Merle. I mean it."

Merle shook his head in disbelief, "That's the second threat of murder that I've gotten from this crazy group y'all got. I'll try and keep my nose clean, do my share of work. Maybe after a while, you'll believe me." Merle stuck out his hand for a shake but Glenn simply turned back to his work on the fence.

This wasn't gonna be easy. Back in Woodbury, he'd been a kind of top dog, one of the governor's trusted few. People had looked up to him, probably been a little afraid too, truth be told. Here in this prison, though, he was going to have to earn a place, earn the trust and respect of these people, if that was even possible. His neck itched and his jaw twitched at the thought that he was going to have to try and impress this bunch of pussies. What the hell was he getting himself into?

He walked back around the side of the prison rubbing his greased stained hand across the back of his neck. It was warm out today. He figured he'd put the truck engine back together and then have another talk with Daryl. "Hey, Dixon," he heard as he walked past the cell block door. It was Lurleen sitting in a chair with her leg propped on a plastic milk crate.

"Hey, Sweet Lurleen," he said with a huge smile as he walked over to where she sat, "You already up and about?"

"Thought I could use some fresh air and sunshine," she told him. "Those pain pills they gave me worked great but my head feels bigger than a beach ball. I told Hershel I was done with those things. I'm sticking with ibuprofen from now on. Don't need that monkey on my back again."

"Glad to see you feelin' better. You gave me quite a scare," Merle said as he reached and squeezed her hand.

"Well, I wouldna made it if it weren't for you droppin' in at the bar. You're a good man, Merle. Hell, I always knew you were. I know you still don't believe it yourself but you and Daryl were always good to me, better than my own family. There's always been good in your heart. You just try and cover it up by gettin' drunk or high and cussin' and fightin'. The world's a different place now, though, Merle. We need good people more than we ever have before. We need men like you two Dixon boys who know how to survive this hell on earth. Running away ain't gonna solve your problems, Merle. Course stayin' here ain't gonna solve 'em all either. You got to do that work yourself just like I had to do. You gotta learn that what happened to you when you were a child wasn't your fault and you don't have to let it define the rest of your life," Lurleen counseled.

"I hear ya. Look, I ain't ever been much for all that Twelve Step shit or AA. I know it worked for you but it just ain't my thing. I already went and spoke to Glen. He's not feeling very forgiving just yet but he said he wouldn't fight me if I decided to stay. I still ain't talked to Rick yet. I'm gonna try and stay for a while, see if I can get used to stickin' in one place. Maybe you and Daryl are right and we can't live without other people anymore. I still ain't made up my mind. One thing I do know is it's mighty good to see you up and feelin' better," Merle admitted.

"I'm glad you're gonna stay or at least try to, " Lurleen told him as she patted his knee. "You're the only friend I got left, Merle. I sure did hate the thought of having to chain you up in one of these cells to keep you from runnin' off."

Merle couldn't help himself. He looked over at her and grinned. "You always were a freaky little thing, Sweet Lurleen," he teased back at her.

"And you always were a son of a bitch, Merle Dixon, but I never held it against you," Lurleen chuckled.

They sat there for a while reminiscing and laughing like they were at some kind of picnic for over an hour. Merle didn't notice that the rest of the group was watching in amazement. They'd never seen him act like a normal person. He'd always been loud, obnoxious and mean when he was around them before. Of course, he'd also been high most of the time he was around them before. Lurleen knew they were watching and she hoped this would help sway them to ask Merle to stay. She really wanted her old friend to hang around. Losing someone else that she cared about was something she couldn't really face at the moment.

The sun was getting low in the sky and Lurleen decided she'd head back inside to lie down. Merle helped her to the Cellblock door and just as he got her safely inside, Carl ran up to him with a message. "My Dad wants to see you," he told Merele. "He's down in the first guard tower."

Merle clenched his jaw and then turned and spit onto the gravel courtyard outside the cell door. He simply nodded in response to Carl and set off towards the tower. This was the moment he'd been dreading. Time to face Officer Friendly and see where the cards were gonna fall. He tried to pretend he didn't care. He sure as hell wasn't gonna let Rick know he cared, but he did. For the first time in a long time, he cared about something and about someone other than his baby brother. If Rick kicked him out, he had no other option than to leave. He couldn't fight these people. It would mean fighting his own brother if he did and that wasn't going to happen.

He climbed the steps to the small room at the top of the tower. Rick stood leaning against the opening across from the door with his arms crossed. He cleared his throat and scratched at his stubbly beard as Merle walked in. "Merle," Rick said as he nodded in greeting.

"Hey Rick," Merle responded.

"I, uh, I just finished speaking with Daryl and Glen. They both say you've decided you want to stay on at the prison. Daryl, of course, wants you to stay here. Glen's not exactly happy about the situation but he tells me he won't oppose you stayin' as long as you stay out of his and Maggie's way and keep yourself out of trouble. What do you have to say?" Rick asked him.

Merle bristled at the authoritarian tone this former cop was taking with him. He stretched his neck slowly side to side before answering, "I'll be honest with you, Rick. I ain't sure what I want to do yet. Lurleen wants me to stay here. She's an old friend, a good friend. And, of course, there's Daryl. My bro wants me to stay, too. I don't got no big plans at the moment so I told 'em I'd give this place a try. I ain't askin' for no handouts. I can take care of myself. I can help out with guard duty, supply runs, whatever else you need. Y'all got your reasons not to trust me. I understand that. I cain't go back and undo what's done. But, I ain't the only one here that's done some hurtful things," he said to Rick as he lifted his arm with the stump and looked at it.

"We did go back for you," Rick told him again, "Nearly got ourselves killed trying to save your sorry ass."

"Yeah, well, I nearly died savin' my own ass so I guess we're even," Merle snapped.

"Look, Merle, we all know what you did, leading that pack of walkers to the silos, taking out the governor's men. That took guts. It was an unselfish act. That and bringing Lurleen here are the only two things I've ever known you to do that weren't for your own direct benefit. I don't know if that means you're tryin' to change or if it's just an aberration. You and Daryl have had tough lives. He's changed, become a part of this group, this family. I don't know if you've got it in you to do what he's done. Can you stay sober? Can you fit in with the rest of us?" Rick asked him honestly.

Merle chewed his lip for a moment. He hated this feeling, like he was being made to answer to a punk ex-cop and explain himself. Daryl had done it, though, so Merle pushed his pride down enough to answer Rick in a civil manner. "I ain't gon make promises but I'm gon try to keep myself in check. As far as stayin' sober, I ain't had much luck findin' any happy pills for quite a while so that shouldn't be a problem. I want to be here when that prick, the governor, comes callin' and I want to be the one that shoves the knife in his belly. I know all of y'all want me to be just like Daryl and fall right in line but me and my brother are very different animals. What I will say is that my loyalty will be with this group now. I won't start any shit with any of y'all but I won't take any either. If that ain't good enough for you, tell me now and I'll get gone."

Rick rubbed his hand across his stubbly chin as he looked around the prison yard. He squinted into the late afternoon sun and then sighed heavily before saying, "I ain't sold on this, Merle. It's gonna take a damn sight of work to make amends for what went down with Glen and Maggie. I'm gonna be honest. If it weren't for the governor bein' out there waiting to strike, I don't know if my answer would be the same but for now, I'm willing to let you stay. We'll see how it goes. Just know that if there are ANY problems caused by you being here, I won't hesitate to put you out. I believe you're tryin' to do what's right. I just don't know if that's realistic where you're concerned. Remember when I asked you if you even knew why you do the crazy things you do? You can't be like that anymore. You gotta think before you act cause your actions affect everybody in this prison now. Alright?"

Merle knew that everything Rick was saying was the truth. It didn't make it any easier to swallow. He simply nodded in response.

"Okay, then," Rick agreed, "I guess we'll put you on the watch rotation and get you a job."

Merle's jaw was clenched tight but he managed to say, "Alright, then. " He left and headed back outside. He couldn't decide if he was happy about stayin' or if he was pissed as hell at himself for even thinkin' about it. Then he remembered Lurleen, sweet Lurleen. Staying here meant staying close to her and that was enough for now.


End file.
